


Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

by Cecil_G_P



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, a less than tasteful fade to black, coffee shop AU, murderous mask AU, no beta we die like emotionally stunted men, rewrite of one of my older ones posted as a new fic due to significant changes, the title is from a fall out boy song and it literally has nothing to do with anything, this is so sad theia play despacito, ummmmmmmmm i still dont know how to tag things, which feels cursed but necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_G_P/pseuds/Cecil_G_P
Summary: Sometimes "inspired by real events" means you're going to watch an inspiring movie about how your arm getting bit off by a shark doesn't change who you are inside, other times it means you read an article about hobby lobby smuggling ancient artifacts into the country and think "hey, that could be turned into a coffee shop au."This is a case of the later.Rewrite of one of my older fanfics.





	1. Watch Me Try To Write A Non-Neutral Coffee Shop Interaction

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this chapter isn't that much different from the other version I have up but everything after here is, so I felt like I should just post it as a whole new work.

I try not to take cases from the Kanagawas. There’s just something about legally televised murder and dismemberment that really puts a lady off. Even if the client does pay spectacularly. But Croesus Kanagawa is dead and the mythical Grimm’s Mask is missing. And if money (really, an extraordinary amount of money) won’t convince me to take the case then sheer curiosity will. Because you see, the theft itself isn’t all that unusual, but I’ve traced the culprits to a smuggling ring and their main public front seems to be a quaint little coffee shop on the corner of 5th and main street. That _is_ unusual. I’m a fan of art and coffee myself, but I don’t think they go well with a side order of theft and burglary. But that’s why I’m standing in line at the damn place I suppose. Nothing better than a good old-fashioned stake out.

It’s tasteful. Comfy chairs and couches are scattered about, some tables here and there. Students from the nearby college are everywhere, typing away at their laptops. Art covers the walls. I squint at it. The pieces are for sale but I don’t recognize anything from the database of missing art. It would be foolish to try to sell stolen art off so publicly anyways.

“Next guest please!”

I snap myself out of my thoughts and approach the counter.

The man, leans on the register, his face lean, but soft, with a cherub’s smile and a fox’s teeth.  “What can I get for you today?” He makes eye contact with me as he says it and I notice -behind some of the largest glasses frames I’ve seen this side of mars- his eyes are impossibly bright. He quirks an eyebrow at me and I remember that I’m supposed to be ordering coffee.

“Uhhhhh, medium roast please, a large.” He smirks like he knows exactly the kind of effect he’s just had on me.

“Anything else for you today ma’am?” He leans further across the register, further into my space. Since when was I so close to the register?

“No, that’s it.”

“And can I get a name to put on the cup?” He straightens up and punctuates the sentence by holding up a cup and a pen.

I hesitate for a split second, not many people have heard of the Juno Steel Detective agency, but then again, it’s not a common name. “J” His eyes flick over me curiously, as if he caught the hesitation. But he writes it down without comment and rings me up.

“Have a wonderful day, J!” And suddenly he’s all smiles again, flashing those sharp sharp teeth. Maybe I’m imagining it but that grin seems a tad more than friendly.  I mentally shake myself as I try to find a table, for all I know he’s the head of the smuggling ring, or even worse, their guard dog. It wouldn't do to give into the hum of attraction under my skin.

After retrieving my coffee and searching for an open table I sit down and open a tabloid to cover the fact that I’m casing the place. The baristas are too busy taking orders and making coffee to do much else. It’s possible they don’t even know the business is a front. At one point they switch tasks and the man that took my order makes coffees as the other woman takes orders. His motions are graceful and a little extravagant, turning the process of making coffee into a stage show. He catches me watching him a couple times, and each time he smirks at me and shows off a little- by flipping whisks like drumsticks or pouring syrups into cups from 3 feet above or the like. And each time I blush like a high schooler and shove my tabloid back over my face. At least he won’t realize I’m casing the place.

After a few coffees and an hour or so of no luck I fold up my tabloid and decide to leave before I raise suspicion. But before I can get up I hear footsteps approach my table.

I look up, expecting the man from before and instead see the other barista.

“Sorry for the wait sir, I didn’t realize we forgot your pastry.”

She walked off before I could tell her I didn’t order one.

I look in the bag to find a slice of coffee cake and a couple napkins. The top napkin looks like it already has something stained on it though. I take it out to find a note scrawled on it in looping and elegant handwriting. The letters are formed a little strangely, as if whoever wrote it didn’t grow up writing common martian.

‘J is such a lovely letter, maybe you’ll tell me what it stands for some time. Perhaps tomorrow? I get off my shift at around 9:30 in the morning if you’d like to stick around and chat.

-Eric’

I look up but he’s no longer in sight. There’s a new guy, donning an apron and greeting the other barista. I look at my watch. 9:45. He must have left already. I bite back a sigh, it might put a dent in my plans to have been noticed and signaled out on the first day. Hopefully he thinks it’s just attraction and nothing more.

I shrug and finally make to leave. It’s a problem for tomorrow.

***

I drop the coffee cake -sans note- on Rita’s desk.

“Awwwww boss! That’s so nice of you!” She takes a huge bite and grins. “Soooooo how’d it go?”

“I don’t have anything on them yet. As a cover, it’s pretty airtight. I might have to snoop around after hours.”

“Well that’s gonna be pretty hard considering it’s a 24/7 place. There aren’t really any hours for the after part.”

I sigh. “Just great. Do you think you could get into their computer system and find a schedule of all the employee’s shifts?”

“Sure thing boss.” She crams some more coffee cake into her mouth before sending her fingers flying across the keys. “How’s it gonna help?” She talks around the cake.

“I’m not sure yet Rita. One of the baristas seems to have taken an interest in me and I’m trying to figure out why.”

“Oooooh! You mean they’re _interested interested_ in you? This is just like in those books Franny’s always recommending!”

“No Rita I-”

“Found the schedules boss! Now, which one are they?”

I lean over her shoulder to glance at the screen. “Eric.”

“Here he is!” She clicks on a schedule. “Eric Saros! So, how’re you gonna romance him into spilling the smuggling ring’s secrets?”

“ _Rita,_ I am not _romancing_ him! For all we know he’s flirting with me because it’s a quieter way of guiding me to the cold ditch he’s gonna dump me in.

“But what if he isn’t! Maybe he _likes_ you! You could get information out of him!”

“Hey! HR department! You’re not supposed to endorse something like that!”

“I’ll endorse anything that involves your _entanglements_ with a handsome gentleman. It’ll be a nice change from the ruffians that usually drop by the office.”

“HR, Rita! You’re supposed to be my HR!”

“It’s within my jurisdiction!”

“No, it’s really not!” I paused to look out the window. It was possible he knew a thing or two… something to grease the wheels on this little investigation. But there was another problem. “If he _is_ involved with the smuggling ring it’s going to be tough to get any information without tipping him off. And besides… I… um…”

“Don’t know how to flirt with him?”

I shrug, keeping my eyes fixed on the lamppost outside. “Something like that.”

“Awwwwww boss, I’ll help!”

“No! No! No!” I jab a finger at her. “Stay out of this, it’s not like one of your streams. It’s a _case._ And you should treat it like one!”

“Sure boss.” But she’s still grinning at me wildly as I slam the door that separates my office from her desk. Leaning against my desk I take the crumpled note out of my pocket. A 24/7 place huh? There wasn’t much I could do in the way of snooping without the employees catching on.

Eric Saros.

I was never much of a flirt, but hey- fake it till you make it right?

Fake it.

For the case.

All I had to do was show up around his shift and see where it goes, and if it doesn’t work I could just get back to the basics and a laser gun.

How hard could it be?


	2. W.W.R.D? (What Would Rita Do?)

The next morning, I catch his eye as I stand in line. He’s making the drinks and when he sees me staring he grins -that mouth full of shiny sharp teeth- and winks at me as he pours a neon purple drink into a plastic cup. I feel heat rising in my face and look away for a second before I remember I’m supposed to be flirting. I steal another glance at him as he smirks at me and I give him a small smile back. _It’s for a case. It’s for a case. It’s for a case. It’s for a case. It’s for a case._

Right before it’s my turn at the register he taps his coworker on the shoulder and they switch. He leans over the register, smiling at me.

“Nice to see you again, J.”

“Eric.” I nod at him.

“I see you got my note. What do you say? Care to stick around after my shift?”

“I’ve got a little time.” I admit. The customer behind me taps their foot impatiently.

“Wonderful! What can I get you in the meantime?”

I rattle off my coffee order and he scribbles on the cup.

“See you soon.” He rings me up and waves at me.

“Looking forward to it.” I mumble and walk away before the flush in my cheeks can get any more apparent.

I nurse my coffee at a table in the back, remembering why I haven’t had anything past hookups for a while now. I don’t have the patience for it really, the sweet talking, raised eyebrows, the fake ‘I love you’s, the inevitable blow out, the feeling of being a goddamned teenager again as I try to convince myself it’ll be different this time.

Absentmindedly, I watch the people in line. None seem out of place from the commuters and students here to get their caffeine fix. Maybe I did have the wrong place, and this really was just a regular coffee shop. It was unlikely, Vicky told me this place was a competitor of hers, and she was rarely wrong when it came to business.

“Need a refill on that coffee?” The man -Eric- slid into the chair across from me and placed two cups of coffee on the table. I took the one closer to me and eyed him.

“Won’t the management be mad you keep giving free stuff to strangers?”

“The management doesn’t need to know.” He smirks at me and sips at his own drink. “And we don’t need to be strangers, J. What’s that short for by the way?”

“Not short for anything actually.” I pick up the drink he gave me and raise an eyebrow at the design in it; a heart flanked on both sides by a leaf like pattern. Cautiously I take a sip of the latte, it has an extra flavor in it that I can’t quite identify and I take a longer sip trying to pin it down. “It’s spelled J-A-Y.”

_I guess this is what I’m doing now._

“Ah. My apologies! I don’t know why I assumed-”

“It’s ok, I get that a lot.” I take another long sip and tried to remember what normal people talked about. What would Rita talk about? Nothing normal probably.

“Well, I’m glad I got the chance to find out. Thank you for indulging me.” He gestures to the space between us.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you write that note?”

He laughs and it’s like sunshine finally managed to make its way past the dust collecting on the radiation shield that covers the skyline.

“What can I say? I was curious! And who am I to let a mysterious and beautiful stranger pass through my life without bothering to learn his name and well… paying a few compliments.”

I nearly choke on my drink, face burning. “Um! Me? Mysterious and b-” I quickly take another sip to shut myself up. “Have you taken a look at yourself lately? I mean you complimenting me? I should uhhh be complimenting you.”

_Real smooth Steel._

 I clear my throat and stare hard into the grain of the synth wood of the table. Slender fingers reach into my field of view to trace a knot in the wood, pale and chipping blue nail polish contrast with the dark of the table.

“And you, Jay? Why are you here?”

 “I- well-” I break off with a nervous laugh. “I guess that’s why I’m here too.”

“You’re awfully cute when you’re flustered.”

“Do you do anything else besides flirt and make coffee?” I snap at him.

He laughs, its bright and bubbly, and makes me melt a little inside. “Hmmmm I might have a few hobbies.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a writer actually.”

“A writer in a coffee shop?”

“A cliché, I know.” He throws his arms up to gesture extravagantly. “But it’s a nice reprieve. I may be stuck on Mars for the moment but write the perfect story and then the perfect character can be gallivanting through the stars.”

“Mars not good enough for you?”

“Mars is alright, but who wouldn’t want to see the stars?” He sighs, suddenly melancholy. “But I’m afraid none of my work has been published. My name will never be known. So here I still am.” He gestures at the uniform.

"I’ve got an actor buddy who used to be a barista.” Carefully, hesitantly, I place my hand over his where it rests on the table. “You’ll get there someday.”

“I certainly hope so.”

I take another sip of my drink, trying to pretend it isn’t a million times better than the plain coffee I always get. This conversation is getting me nowhere with the case. _What would Rita do?_

“And you, Jay? What do you do?”

_What would Rita say?_

“I’m a secretary.”

“Oh? Who to? Anybody interesting?”

“An independent software developer. She sure is a character but the work itself doesn’t make for great conversation.”

“And what else?”

“What else?”

“What do you do outside of work, dear?”

 _Outside of work_? Mentally I shuffle through last weekend’s drinking binge, the failed case that preceded it, the extensive research on European sea snails I had done for the case before that, the binge from that case, the stranger’s bed I had woken up in after it, getting mugged in a back alley on my way home from that neo-postmodern-futurism-classical art exhibition that-

“Jay?”

“Hm?” I blink, thoughts of wonderfully terrible paintings grinding to a halt.

“I asked if you had any hobbies?”

“Oh, uh right!” I laugh, embarrassed. “I like art exhibitions, especially the terrible ones.”

And there’s that smile again, but instead of a grin sharp enough to cut myself on it’s as warm as the coffee cup in my hands, sweet like the drawings in the latte foam. I feel myself smile back.

“Terrible art exhibitions? You’ll have to show me one sometime.”


End file.
